


under my skin

by prosodiical



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, Narrator Chara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosodiical/pseuds/prosodiical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humans don't have daemons anymore, but when Frisk falls underground, they find Chara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	under my skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eida/gifts).



> I saw you liked daemon AUs and just had to write it - I hope you like this!

The placards underground glow when Frisk touches them. "It's an old story," Chara says, a warm huff of air into Frisk's ear, and Frisk firms their mouth into a line, stubborn as they start to piece together the words. Chara make an annoyed sound, a croak in their bird-throat as they fly off further down the hallway, but Frisk doesn't mind. Chara always comes back.

There's a story, above-ground: that humans used to walk around with their souls outside their bodies; that this, like so many other things, was lost. The story across Waterfall tells of monsters with the power to steal human souls and Frisk looks at Chara, who they wouldn't give up for anything in the world, and thinks they understand. "Do you know why?" Frisk asks, and when they brush against the echo flower nearby their own question is repeated again, their same quiet, wavering voice.

"Magic," Chara suggests, "hatred."

Frisk bites their lip, lifts their hand to Chara's smooth scales, wrapped around their neck like a scarf. Chara's snake-eyelids flutter and Frisk says, "Fear."

"But who was afraid?" Chara says. "Was it us, or was it them?"

Frisk doesn't have an answer.

 

Chara first finds Frisk while they're still lying on a bed of flowers, wondering if they should move. Chara flaps bee-wings and buzzes, "Get up," in Frisk's ear, and Frisk turns to them wide-eyed and wondrous - because they call to each other, because Frisk recognises them - because they're one and the same.

Frisk holds out a gentle finger and when the bee lands, six feet turning into four, the scales of a lizard expanding into Frisk's hesitant touch, Frisk knows they belong together like something immutable and obvious, like they've always been there, somewhere, but now they're free. "Who are you?" Frisk asks, then - "No. What's your name?"

"Chara," they say, and clamber up Frisk's sleeve, settle themselves on their shoulder.

Chara murmurs into Frisk's ear the entire way through the underground but for when the golden yellow flower appears and Chara's a bee, an ant, a tiny little midge that Frisk can hardly see but for knowing they're there. Chara laughs about determination when Frisk SAVEs and is unimpressed by puzzles but keeps suggesting new puns to throw at Snowdrake into Frisk's ear and Frisk kicks a snowball, just because. "Snow poffin," Chara chirps for something like the fifth time, cheerful as their sparrow form, and Frisk nudges them under the head, a soft push that has Chara give them their most unimpressed bird-glare.

"Do you think Toriel's okay?" Frisk asks, and Chara turns his beak and flaps away.

But they're back again when Frisk trudges through snow and ice and can feel water seeping into their boots, through their clothes; Frisk shivers and wraps their arms around themselves and then Chara's there, on their shoulders in a single bound; warm-blooded this time, and covered in fur Frisk buries their nose in, breathing in and smelling dust. "Don't go," Frisk says, and Chara stills, a heartbeat paused, before they huff a breath that might be a sigh.

"We're the same," Chara says. "You must know by now."

"But are we?" Frisk asks, and Chara's dark, beady eyes are the first to look away.

 

Chara takes delight in the strangest things, Frisk finds. Frisk wanders and finds a quiche lost under a bench that makes Chara chortle, spinning tales that evolve like blooming flowers in Frisk's head, "Psychologically damaged," Chara says, with an undercurrent of amusement, and Frisk wonders if they're imagining the heavy weight of the words; they're not. Chara spins a web around Frisk's ear when Frisk is bent over a pot of noodles, spider-chittering voice counting down the minutes as Frisk eyes Muffet's pet with a wary eye, and they laugh with glee over their own joke: "Spider don't - spider didn't."

Frisk bites their tongue as they crunch into the last bit of the donut to stop themselves from giving in, the giggle bubbling in their throat feeling almost inescapable. "No," Frisk says, and Chara hops on a spider-leg and winks with eight eyes as Muffet's expression starts to turn into a frown. She lets them go, after that, and Frisk glances at Chara and wants to know - and doesn't.

"Who are you?" Frisk asks, as they tread softly through the house like Toriel's, the king's remnants of a life bared for everyone to see. Chara shakes their head, but stares for a long while at the too-familiar chocolate in the fridge. "Who were you?"

"I'm you," Chara says, in the tiniest voice into Frisk's ear, as Frisk pulls themselves up and up again against the flower who wants to destroy the world. "I'm yours. Stay determined."

Frisk does; Frisk can do nothing else, not with Chara by their side. They LOAD and LOAD until their head is spinning, until there's a terrible old too-familiar tale and a boy Frisk wraps their arms around until their tears are dried and Chara settles on the field of flowers, a wistful ache echoing in Frisk's own heart. "Were you," Frisk starts, at the border between worlds, and Chara sinks their teeth into Frisk's neck; not hard, not enough to draw blood, but a warning and a reminder.

"I'm you, remember?" Chara says, and Frisk watches them for a long moment, shakes their head.

"No," Frisk says, "You are, but you're not. We're tied - we're connected - but... you're still you."

"After everything," Chara mutters, and Frisk can't help their smile. "Now what?"

"Now," Frisk says, and looks into the human world, their future. "We go together."

"Stay determined," Chara says, and jumps to the ground; muscles shift and fur blurs into skin and Frisk can't be surprised when Chara finally stops, standing on unsteady legs. Frisk holds out their hand, and Chara takes it in their own. "Let's go."


End file.
